


The moments that define us

by ThatWALKERKid



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Choices, Commander Lexa, Declarations Of Love, Duty, F/F, Grounder Culture, Grounder Octavia Blake, Lexa Lives, Multi, Survival, The 100 Femslash, alternate ending to 3x07
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-07-10 13:12:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6986479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatWALKERKid/pseuds/ThatWALKERKid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Its never easy.. Following your heart. It hurts and often leads to decisions that make everything 100 times worse. What can you do when your whole life has been about not feeling, not loving another because of the weakness it shows? What happens when someone choses you.. makes you their world and are willing to do anything to make sure you have the life you deserve? What if it goes against everything your people stand for? Do you hide? Do you turn a blind eye to your feelings and go with what your supposed to?</p><p>Lexa and Clarke have chosen each other. Set 3x07 except Lexa lives and Clarke decides that life should be about more than just surviving.. Their people dont make it easy and problem arise but working together they are determined to find a way to be together, love each other, and still bring peace to their people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The choice of Fealty

Prologue:

Lexa didn't want to open her eyes, the fear of disturbing the comfortable warmth she was currently enveloped in gnawed at her gut. She let the trails Clarke was tracing up and down her exposed arm take her mind to more promising, pleasant thoughts. For the first time in for as long as she could remember, she was content; in this moment, she wasn't the commander, the fate of every person who ever existed wasn't on her shoulders and she was loved. It wasn't as if she was deluding herself into thinking that this moment was going to last forever, she knew it was just that; a moment. As if the universe itself had heard her silent thoughts, Lexa heard Clarke’s inhale of breath as if she was going to speak.

“If octavia and I are gonna get behind the blockade by dawn…”

She knew her moment of serenity was slipping away but she fought like hell to drag it back even if it was only for a little while longer.

“Sssshhh…”

It had escaped her lips before she could stop it and to her surprise she didn't care. It had had the desired effect; Clarke had fallen silent and had moved her delicate finger tip musings to her very bare back. Her eyes remained purposefully closed as Clarke painted intricate designs over her skin; not unlike the ink that marked her already. Lexa knew Clarke was about to speak again as her fingertips graced the ink.

“This is beautiful…”

She felt Clarke’s fingers trace the lines and circles in admiration. Lexa kept her eyes closed, still trying desperately to hold onto whatever this was. She knew Clarke didn't want to or even mean to disrupt the moment they currently shared but her curiosity about everything compelled her to ask questions and comment on things. It was one of the many things that Lexa found so extraordinary about the girl who had fallen from the sky.

“I got it on my ascension day, a circle for every nigh blood that died when the commander chose me.”

The heavy weight of the explanation forced her eyes open and her stomach to twist at the memories that now flooded her mind; she also knew that the moment she had been trying to hold onto was slipping away under a tide of souls lost and things she had no intention of providing further explanation to.

“Seven circles? I thought you said there were 9 officiates at your conclave?”

Lexa knew Clarke’s intention was only to get to know her better, to share more than just the necessity of acquaintance that came with trying to bring peace to their people. The truth was that she wanted to let Clarke in but there were still some things… demons, that Lexa had to battle on her own for a little while longer. She tread carefully.

“There were.”

The simple answer had meant to signal an end to this line of inquiry but Lexa knew better of Clarke and was expecting the next question she had uttered. 

“What happened to number 8?”

She had no intention of answering the question and as she rolled over onto her back, her eyes sinking into the blues of the women’s before her, she decided that as soon as she had done everything that they had set out to do, she would take Clarke somewhere that they could be alone and she would offer her every answer and explanation that was asked of her. She would offer all of herself to Clarke but in this moment she wanted no part in remembering things of the past, instead she wanted what she had before her in this moment.

“Can we talk about something else?”

In that moment Lexa felt exposed, like she was standing bare for her entire peoples to see; every imperfection, flaw and wrong decision she had ever made laid out for judgement. But as Clarke’s blue eyes pierced their gaze through her green orbs, she felt the world around them melt away, leaving her unprepared for what happened next.

“We don’t have to talk at all.”

The sentence had been uttered with a quiet, seductive confidence and the slight upturn of Clarke’s lips into a smile brought Lexa’s world to a complete and utter stop. Their eyes battled each other searching for any sign of regret or hesitation, and as the rare smile slid its way onto Lexa’s lip, they both knew that what they were feeling belonged solely to them and as she could no longer resist the magnetic pull of Clarke’s lips, Lexa gave into her soul and kissed her without a care in the world. A fire burnt deep inside and Lexa knew that despite everything she had ever been told, love was not weakness and she definitely did not have to be alone.

Chapter 1: 

Lexa woke with a start; fleeting images of commanders past and future engagements retreating into her subconscious. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath she tried to calm her racing pulse. As her heart began to thump steadier rhythm inside the cage of her chest, she opened her eyes once more expecting to see the figure of a sky princess beside her. Her heart constricted painfully in her chest and a wave of despair bit at the pit of her stomach. Clarke had left her. Their conversation from only hours before began to replay in her mind.

“I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t be.. you have to go back, they're your people. That’s why I… That’s why you’re you.”

Lexa’s brow knitted together in sad realisation; Clarke went back to her people. She was caught in her own thoughts when a sweet, beautiful sound travelled to her ears on the slight breeze floating in through the open doors to her balcony. She frowned a little harder with wonderment. Pulling on her shirt and pants that had been haphazardly discarded hours before, she went to investigate the sound that was both heartbreaking and beautiful at the same time.

As she approached the open doors, the tune louder now, she let it play across her mind for a moment. The sun had just begun to peak through the clouds that streaked the sky. Lexa was hesitant to step out onto the balcony; afraid she would disturb the soul that was delivering such beautiful sounds. She took a deep breath and stepped through the timidly drifting curtain and onto the balcony. The sight before her could have almost killed her then and there; it took everything she had, every ounce of strength to force the air back into her lungs and to get her heart started again.

Blonde hair danced on the slight breeze in the air. Lexa inched forward a little more and leant gently against the door frame, once again not wanting to disturb the moment. Clarke leant on the railing overlooking the city below, her elbows propping her up; the sweet melody she was humming exited slightly pursed lips. The rays of first light gave her a glow, an aura almost, that Lexa wished she could stare at forever. A smile graced her lips and Lexa thanked the gods that Clarke couldn't see what she looked like right now; a fault she wanted to keep to herself a while longer. The smile faltered as Clarke stopped humming. Lexa chose this moment to step forward, standing beside Clarke on the balcony.

“It’s dawn.”

She noticed Clarke tense for a moment but relaxed as soon as she realised it was her and not someone ready to end her life.

“It is..”

Lexa rested her palms on the railing before them; her pinky brushing against Clarke’s inciting a shiver that pricked Lexa’s skin with goosebumps. She didn’t mind one bit, not if it meant that Clarke was still here with her; close enough to touch. The sun was making a bid to defeat the cloud that covered it and as it did so Lexa watched as Clarke inhaled deeply, almost as if she was trying to fill her soul with its warmth. The clouds eventually won out and the sun sank back to rebuild its offensive. Clarke let out her inhaled breath and half turned so that she faced Lexa, leaning her side against the railing. Lexa felt her eyes dancing over every inch of her.

“I thought you would have left with Octavia..”

Lexa didn't removed her gaze from the slowly awakening city below them but noticed a flicker of a frown crease Clarke’s brow from the corner of her eye. She immediately regretted sounding so formal, without emotion as the air around them began to fill with tension; which is why she was surprised when Clarke stepped up to her; into her personal space, body pressed against her own on the railing. 

“You were right..” Clarke whispered as if she was afraid of what she was saying.

With such a simple statement Lexa’s world was thrown off balance once more. She turned her head to look at Clarke, to gauge if she had actually heard correctly; staying silent, allowing Clarke time to finish her thought.

“I can choose what I want to do… where I want to be.”

It was not Lexa’s turn to frown; she knew what Clarke meant but didn't want her to give up everything she knew.

“Clarke… I… I don’t want you to decide this… to choose this, if its not what you truly want. You owe me nothing.” 

Lexa was fighting herself with every word she uttered; it was all she wanted- Clarke by her side, safe, alive and happy. Her gaze returned to the city spread before her. Clarke reached across and turned Lexa’s chin towards her again. The small smile Lexa saw dance across Clarke’s lips cracked her hard exterior; her eyes almost betraying her, lips quivering.

“Lexa…” Clarke breathed out gently.

Her named slipped from Clarke’s lips with such grace she thought it could have been the most beautiful sound she had ever heard in her life. She tried to blink back the tears in her eyes; a solitary drop disobeying her orders, rolling down her cheek. Clarke caught it with her thumb and smiled softly.

“There has to be more… I want more than to just survive… My people… Our people- we deserve more,” Clarke’s voice shook slightly, “I may not owe anything to you but I owe it to myself to try for something more.”

Lexa didn't know what to say. So many things were going through her mind, swaying and crashing like the waves of enemy soldiers upon her defensive line in battle. Her silence must be confusing to Clarke and it became a reality as Clarke inched away from her, sadness ghosting across her perfect features.

“That is… if you want to have something more that involves me?” her voice cracking.

Hearing this snapped Lexa’s mind to attention. She turned towards Clarke, facing her for the first time that morning; their eyes meeting with a flash of fire. In that one look Lexa knew that this would be a defining moment in her life. There had been few moments before this that had changed the path Lexa travelled; the first was being chosen to lead her people, the second, the day she has risen above and accepted the Ice Nation into her alliance after they had killed Costia and the third had been when the sky girl before her had brokered peace by slaying one of her own people. All of them had changed her but this one would define a lifetime, not only for her and Clarke themselves but for both their peoples as well.

Lexa let out a breathy sigh and fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, her eyes flitting from Clarke’s lips to the ocean blues of her eyes.

“I’ve come to learn that there is always more to find Clarke. I know I haven't always been this person who sees the value of having more but if knowing you has taught me anything, it is that life is about more than just surviving and Clarke,” she paused, steadying her thoughts, “we deserve to experience it without fear and trepidation.”

Lexa knew she must sound like a crazy person, rambling about wants and desires. She never used to ramble, not until Clarke had come into her life. Their eyes had been locked in a dance and the gaze was only broken when a slight frown creased Clarke’s forehead.

“What does that mean?” Clarke breathed out.

Lexa knew Clarke had understood her but was looking for clarification; a solid answer and she knew just how to show her. Lexa knelt down in front of Clarke who stared with watery eyes at the realisation of what Lexa was doing.

“I swear fealty to you, Klark kom Skaikru. I vow to treat your needs as my own and your people as my people.”

Just like they had done before, Clarke extended her hand towards Lexa and helped her to her feet. Lexa’s heart was racing as they stood face to face in a now comfortable silence. Her breath hitched in her throat as Clarke took a step towards her, closing the already time gap between them. The tears that had been unshed slipped freely from Clarke’s eyes now and silently stained her cheeks. Lexa’s hand gravitated to the side of Clarke’s face, her thumb caressing the soft skin along her jaw. Their lips danced awfully close and the air between them was non existent; for the second time Clarke took control, sensing Lexa still didn't quite trust what she was feeling. As if Lexa might shatter into a million pieces before her, Clarke tested the waters and grazed her lips over Lexa’s; their noses brushing together, joining the dance. Lexa inhaled Clarke’s unique scent- a hint of charcoal and earth; it sent her senses into overdrive and she felt herself step into Clarke, their bodies meshing together as if they were the same person. 

It was a slow, purposeful kiss; the kind of kiss that gave everything they had and hinted to what more they could be. It was only mere moments long but it said everything they needed to say right then. As their lips parted, Clarke wrapped her arms around Lexa’s waist and rested her chin on her shoulder. Instinctively Lexa’s arms mirrored the act, holding Clarke close as if her body was a shield that could protect her from anything.

As if on cue, to test the theory, the doors to her bedroom flew open. Lexa released Clarke and stood in front of her, indeed shielding her from the onslaught she knew to be Titus.

“HEDA!!”

Lexa stood her ground and waited for Titus to appear before her in the door way. She knew what he was here for, the kill order had gone into effect and Clarke was still in Polis. Titus would argue that her presence was putting the tenuous coalition of the clans at stake and that if she wanted to preserve her legacy she had to enforce the order, even if that meant putting Clarke to death. Just as she as predicted, Titus’s weathered face appeared before her, his brow knitted together in a frown, making his already worn features seem all the more prominent.

“Heda.. it is time. Clarke must come with me now. The kill order is in effect… I can get her to safety but we have to leave now!!.”

Lexa had heard enough and raised a hand to silence him. He had always been a trusted advisor and only wanted to serve and protect her like tradition demanded but he was stuck in the old ways, believing Blood must have blood.

“No Titus,” her voice tainted with a hint of disdain, “Clarke is staying here in Polis.”

Lexa could see the fiery rage bubbling up behind his eyes, but she didn't care. No matter hoe she felt about him, he was still on of her subject . 

“Please Heda..” his jaw flexing harshly, “everything that has happened up to this point… everything you have achieved with uniting the clans will be for nothing if you do not up hold the kill order. More over I fear, it will cost you your life… I cannot be idle if that is the path you have chosen.” His words measured and laced with the lingering threat of dealing with Clarke himself.

Until now Clarke had stayed silent, protected by Lexa but she couldn't hear any more of this. She stepped around Lexa, much to her protest; grabbing her hand and looking into her eyes, silently okaying the exchange. 

“You really think putting me to death with change anything? Your coalition was rocky long before we got here. The actions of a few should not hold an entire group to standard. We started Blood must not have blood in hopes of change… of living in peace with each other.” She stated matter of factly.

Titus scoffed and if Lexa thought he was capable of it he would have laughed in Clarke’s face. He turned to face Clarke fully.

“It is because of you that we are at this impasse! Your disregard for the commander’s life and our ways are what define you and the rest of Skaikru,” he hissed at her. “The great Wanheda, Commander of Death… it follows you.. body after body dropped in your wake. You talk of coexistence when all you really want is to be protected, free to do as you please, no matter the consequences or who pays.” He paused in his tirade, whether it was for affect, Clarke didn't know. “The commander’s death is a price I will not pay. If you truly care for her and want to protect what is being built here, you will allow me to arrange for your departure. It is the only way!” The last words were spat from his mouth, a level of annoyance growing beneath his usually measured tone. 

Clarke eyed him, her blue orbs set like cold steel upon him.

“And if I refuse to leave?” Her defiant tone there to test him

Titus took a step towards Clarke causing Lexa to step between duo. Stopping his advance and bowing his head slightly in acknowledgement of respect, Titus once again turned his pleas to Lexa.

“Leksa… I mean only to serve you as I have done thus far; I am loyal to you and will follow your command but I am not the problem here. Riders sent word from the out skirts of Arkadia, Azgeda know that Warhead did not return with the other Skaikru. Even in our most loyal ranks, there are whispers, they grow restless” he hissed. 

Lexa swallowed hard. As much as she wanted Clarke by her side, she also wanted to retain control and some semblance of peace for her people. She had to be wise as well as holding firm in her own wants.

“Does Azgeda move upon us?”

Titus placed his hands behind his back and shook his head.

“Not as yet but word will come. It is just a matter of time.”

On this she knew Titus was right. If Azgeda had received word that a Skai person hadn't obeyed the blockade and that she refused to up hold the kill order, there would be ranks sent for her head. She needed to bide her time; to figure out a plan that would satisfy everyone and keep Clarke alive.

“I do trust your council on this Titus,” she sighed heavily, the full weight of the situation resting on her chest, restricting her lungs. “I know they will send messengers soon, but we have to figure out a plan to save everyone… we need to buy some more time.”

Before Titus could object, a horn sounded in the distance, drawing the trios attention to the horizon. Just beyond the city gates a formation of clan members had begun. Clarke felt her breath catch involuntarily in her throat.

“It’s already to late.”

Lexa gripped the rail in front of her; knuckles turning bone white under the force. Clarke could see her wall going back up brick by brick; had she really expected anything else? Lexa was born to be Heda; for the most part it is all she's ever known and now it was all going to come undone because she had chosen something for herself.


	2. Doing what is right, isn't always easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa and Clarke come to terms with the reality of being in charge.. Lexa has an idea.

Clarke paced back and forth at the foot of the bed that only hours before she had shared with Lexa, her mind in a free fall as to what to do about their current, yet all to familiar predicament. Pulled from her thoughts as Lexa’s voice echoed angrily down the hall towards her. She took a deep breath and waited for the calamity that was hurricane Lexa to burst through the doors in front of her. Clarke felt herself smile slightly at that thought; it wasn't until she had met Lexa that she realised why they named storms after women. That fury, excitement, destructive elegance and passion never failed to give her chills.

As if forced by strong winds, the double doors blew open and Lexa breezed into the room; Titus hot on her heels.

“Beja heda! You need to listen to me. Has my council ever given you reason to doubt me? Azgeda marches on Polis! King Roan has shown that he is just like his mother before him. We must act now! Show the rest of the 12 clans what happens if they dare to move against you!” 

Lexa threw her hands in the air, silencing him.

“Enough Titus! Leave us. I need to speak with Clarke.” she commanded, her annoyance evident.

Titus glanced at Clarke, his hard exterior never faltering. 

“Clarke’s opinion in these matters is of little importance” he seethed. “We would not be here if-“

Lexa stepped right into Titus’s face; her normal calm replaced with unbridled anger.

“I suggest you remember your place Titus! I will seek council where ever I deem it necessary. Now leave us!” 

A quick glance at Clarke once again and the bow of his head, Titus retreated through the doors, closing them behind him.

Silence filled the space around them. Clarke bit her lip trying to suppress the urge to speak but Lexa saw right through it.

“Speak freely Clarke” Lexa breathed, shoulders falling slightly.

Clarke stepped closer to Lexa to try and calm the rage bubbling just beneath her surface. She could see that Lexa was conflicted and knew that there was only one way that this could be resolved. Lexa’s eyes danced over Clarke as if trying to memorise every inch of her.

“You know Titus is right Lexa,” Clarke conceded, “I know Roan and as much as it pains me to admit, there is only one way that this ends in your favour. I have to surrender to him. Im the one her wants; the great Wanheda.” 

Lexa gritted her teeth painfully. This was not how she wanted to bring peace to her people and to have a life that was more than just blood oaths and revenge.  
“It doesn’t have to be this way Clarke . I am the commander of the 12 clans-“

Clarke cupped lexa’s cheek with a gentle hand and offered her a sad smile. 

“That’s exactly why it does have to be this way,” she soothed, “your the commander, you need to set an example. I am an intruder, attacking their way of life. If I give myself over to Roan maybe he won’t kill me, maybe we will have another chance but if you don’t do this, kill me or hand me over, your people will be at war with their own and we've done too much already to let that happen.”

Lexa frowned and unshed tears threatened to fall once again.

“I won’t just stand here and watch you die.” Her words came ladened with thoughts of a world without Clarke and her heart constricted painfully. She watched as a smile melted onto Clarke’s lips.

“What could possibly be amusing you right now?”

Clarke stepped into Lexa, her fingertips brushing up her arms. 

“It’s just I distinctly remember me saying that to you before you went to face Roan. It might actually be good luck considering you beat him.”

Lexa looked over every inch of Clarke’s face and almost got lost in blues of her eyes. Her body relaxed against Clarke’s.

“Clarke I…” her voice trailed off, not really knowing how to say all that she wanted to.

Clarke ghosted her thumb across her lips, hand cupping her cheek gently, signalling that it was okay; that she had accepted that this was how it was. 

Word had been sent to the Azgeda force that Clarke would surrender to them at sundown. Lexa had begun to pace back and forth along the balcony; her mind searching for a way out of this that wouldn't end in Clarke’s death. She was pulled from her musings by Clarke, who had stepped into the doorway, leaning against its worn frame.

“Lexa stop. There is nothing you can do now.”

Pushing off the door frame, Clarke walked over to Lexa, standing in front of her, blocking her advance.

“I only have a few hours left and I would really like to spend them doing other things.” The words slipped from her lips suggestively.

Clarke took a few small steps forward, forcing Lexa to step back, her body nudging the balcony wall gently; breath hitching as Clarke enveloped her body with her own. In that moment something almost animalistic stirred inside Lexa; the need to show Clarke every part of her, not just physically but everything that made her who she was becoming a force she could no longer deny.

Lexa breathed her in; hands roaming her body, lips tasting her. A few moments passed and a hand gravitated to the back of Clarke’s neck, fingers tangling forcefully in luscious blonde hair. A satisfied moan vibrated through Clarke’s body into Lexa’s own.

She pulled back gently with the hand in Clarke’s hair, their lips parting, leaving Clarke with a sulky look on her face, desperate for the contact she had just lost. They both stared at each other, chests heaving with heavy breaths, lips swollen; bodies pressed together.

Mere moments passed between them but in all reality a life time could have elapsed and neither would have either notice or even cared; except for the fact that it would have never been enough.

Every decision, action, feeling and event that had occurred in her life flashed behind her eyes on the screen of her mind. It was as if her mind was replaying everything to try and figure out what had led her to this point. The images slowed when Clarke had come into her life; they hit her the hardest because while they had been through a lot together, there just wasn't enough memories of Clarke for Lexa’s liking.

She forced herself out of her own thoughts and back into the moment before her and felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth; for once in her life she let it bloom fully. Taking Clarke’s hand, Lexa led them back inside and over to the bed. Clarke let Lexa take control. She knew she was struggling with letting her make this choice, and this was Lexa’s way of making sure she knew how she felt.

And Clarke did know. As her back melted into the furs on Lexa’s bed and her body was covered with Lexa’s own, she felt safe, loved and as if nothing else mattered; and right now it didn’t.

The edges of Clarke’s mind began to blur as hot breath and languid kisses made their way down her neck, breath catching dangerously as Lexa bit at the sensitive spot near her collarbone. If Clarke could have seen her face, she would have noted Lexa’s soft smile seep into her skin.

Lexa revelled in the feeling of the sky girl beneath her. Heat radiated from her core and Lexa couldn't help but delight in the way Clarke’s breathe caught in her throat or the moan she could suppress as Lexa’s teeth grazed her jawline. Propping herself up over Clarke, arms beside her head, Lexa took a moment to just look at her; blonde hair framed a beautifully battle marred face, pink lips swollen and wanting.

A frown worked its way onto Lexa’s face; it was a frown of anger or disapproval but rather one of thought. Clarke watched as Lexa’s eyes danced over her, deep in thought, practically looking through her.

“Lexa?” Worry tinged the word as it slipped from her mouth.

The mention of her name wasn't enough to break the battle inside her mind. Clarke reached up and cupped her face; this brought the world crashing back into real time and Lexa looked Clarke dead in the eyes.

“It can’t be that simple..?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read/ commented/ bookmarked and left me kudos.. I love and appreciate all of you! I hope you continue to like where this story goes. Sorry about how short this chapter is and that the ending is how it is.. But fear not! It is for a purpose. Lexa's our badass commander with an idea, what could possibly go wrong? right?
> 
> As always feel free to leave me a comment, ask questions or hit me with some prompts. 
> 
> Also, feel free to hit me up on the inter webs- TWITTER: ( @thatwalkerkid )
> 
> I look forward to seeing where I can take this. ALL MISTAKES, BOTH GRAMMATICALLY AND IDEA WISE ARE MY OWN.. I'm human!
> 
> Much love,  
> Mel (Thatwalkerkid)


	3. If you hear hoof beats, its probably not Zebras

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa does the unthinkable... sort of...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is such a short chapter.. and that it took me forever to write.. I wasn't sure how it would come together, but be assured everything is not as it seems :) in a good way for once

Clarke was seriously confused.

She had no idea what was running through Lexa's mind and as she shuffled off the bed and out of the door without another word, Clarke was a a complete loss. Her mind began to race; the frown creasing her brow making her appear furious. And to be honest she kinda was. More so at the fact that Lexa had pretty much left her mid throw and didn't offer any explanation. Huffing her annoyance, Clarke sat up and looked around the room, her eye catching on a familiar design etched into the wall near a book shelf that housed books that Clarke had only heard of on the Ark. She got up off the bed and walked over to the intricate carving on the wall. Worn fingers traced the lines of the distinctive figure eight pattern, much like she had while lying in bed with Lexa earlier. She smiled softly at the memory only faltering when her attention was drawn to a title on the shelf. A layer of dust lined the shelf, disturbed only in places where particular books had been removed. Clarke thumbed the worn spine of the book, revealing gold stencil lettering; Sun Tzu - The Art of War.

A cloud of dust billowed towards her as she pulled the book off the shelf, causing her to cough as it invaded her lungs. In the commotion of trying to breathe again Clarke was caught off guard as two grounder watchmen grabbed her by both biceps. She struggled to break free, causing her to drop the book, it falling to the ground with a thud as she was dragged out of Lexa’s chambers by force. As they struggled their way through the door way, Clarke’s eyes widened as her gaze fell on Lexa; arms firmly gripped behind her back. Everything seemed to fall into an inevitable slow motion as Lexa nodded at the two men, who then dragged her down the hall. Clarke tried to look back over her shoulder at the receding figure. 

“Lexa!?” The word fell short, eliciting no reaction. Clarke continued her struggle until her world was plunged into darkness by a hood; her stomach dropping at the cold realisation that Lexa had once again betrayed her. 

———————————————————————————————————————————

The rope bit into her wrists as she sat in a cell. There had been nothing she could have done as two men had grabbed her on her way out of Polis. She wasn't at all surprised to find herself locked up yet again; it seemed to be a reoccurring theme in her life, one that she couldn't seem to escape. It also didn't surprise her that when she had asked the guards who had ordered her detainment that she was greeted with the company line of “we are under the commander’s orders”, which meant that Lexa had ordered them and that she’d yet again shown her true colours.

It did however surprise her, when they had placed Clarke in the cell beside her; head covered with a hood. Octavia had to suppress the urge to laugh; here she was thinking Clarke could do no wrong in Lexa’s eyes but here she was, locked up and probably about to be executed. The two men didn't acknowledge Octavia or remove the hood from Clarke’s head. She sat deathly silent, back against there wall, shrouded in shadow save for the sliver of light beaming down from the window above her head.

She watched as Clarke tried to listen for any sign of life around her. The city above them bustled full of life, signalling that they were still in Polis. Octavia heard Clarke let out a soul burdened sigh and slam her back against the cold stone behind her.

“Damn it” Clarke hissed.  
“Damn it. Damn it. Damn it!”  
Each accentuated by her back slamming against the wall.

Octavia closed her eyes and sighed.  
“Somehow, I don’t think that’s gonna do it.”  
She couldn't see Clarke turn her head but assumed she had as the gasp escaped her lips. Octavia opened her eyes and slipped her legs though her arms so that they were in front of her. 

“Octavia?” It was an unnecessary question but she answered anyway.  
“Yeah” , a pause, “its me princess. Locked up again.”

Clarke felt her chest constrict at the nickname; Princess. While it had been used a a term of endearment by Finn, everyone else had used it against her and to hear Octavia sat it almost broke her heart.

“Octavia.. I-“

Octavia laughed indignantly. “Save it Clarke. Face it, your girlfriend sold us out. AGAIN!” 

Even in the complete darkness of the hood, Clarke could feel the world spinning; walls closing in on her. She felt a sob wrack her body and her breath constrict in her chest. Clamping her eyes shut she tried to calm her breathing; the breaths coming short and sharp.

Octavia frowned and made her way over to the bars separating them. “Clarke? Try and calm your breathing..”

She could see Clarke shaking her head, signalling that she couldn’t.

“I-…. Can’t…. Can’t b-breathe.”

Octavia tried to extend her hands through the slim gap but the rope binding her hands together snagged.

“Clarke, listen to me” octavia soothed, “focus on my voice… follow my voice.”

She watched as Clarke listened to her voice, trying to determine its direction. Sliding slowly across the rough ground, Clarke managed to reach the bars dividing the cells.

“That’s good… that’s good. Okay I’m gonna take this off?”

Clarke’s head bobbed slightly, her breathing beginning to even out. Octavia grabbed the top of the hood and pulled it off; light flooded Clarke’s vision. It took several moments for her eyes to adjust to the change, tears streaking her cheeks. Octavia slid down the bars and sat with her back opposite to Clarke with a sigh. Clarke’s breath was still heavy, like she’d just run a marathon and was trying to catch her breath at the finish line.

“Im…. I’m sorry-“ She beat out through ragged breaths.

Octavia frowned, the broken utterance catching her off guard. She silently cursed herself for having been so rude to Clarke earlier, when it was clear that she really didn’t have any part in what they had gotten themselves into. A heavy silence fell between the pair, Octavia not knowing what to say to Clarke that wouldn't sound like she was blaming her and Clarke knew any words she tried to offer Octavia would fall on assuming ears. Clarke knew that while Octavia felt more alive in the grounder culture, she also knew that Lexa wasn't on her list of favourite people; she would now be on the very long list of people who had imprisoned her and as experience had proven that was not a list you wanted to ever find yourself on.

The silence was broken by a horn sounding in the distance. Both Clarke and Octavia looked towards the barred window, trying to figure out what it meant. After a few moments Clarke shifted so she could look at Octavia; who remained firmly seated, looking away from her. 

“Octavia…” she tried to sound soft, “how are you here? I was told you had made it back to Arkadia.”

Octavia let out a heavy sigh and shifted her position further up the bars. 

“I waited as long as I could for you. I contemplated coming to find you but you know what? I thought no, Clarke has made her choice, she chose them over her own, chose to give up and hide. I was on my way to Arkadia to try and fix this when I was grabbed by two of Lexa’s henchmen and dragged back here.”

A thick tension filled the space between them, which caused Clarke to feel surprised as Octavia chuckled.

“You know what’s funny though?” turning her head to look at Clarke, “I thought she’d do anything for you but here you are.”

Octavia couldn't help the throaty laugh that escaped her lips. Clarke felt her chest tighten, a heavy weight settling there. 

“Octavia,” she hissed warningly. Octavia shook her head, still laughing on the verge of tears. 

“You still don’t get it do you Clarke. You’re just like the rest of us- nothing special. Look around you! Look where your trust had led you. You need to come to terms with the fact that she will do whatever she has to do to save her people; its time for you to do the same. This is Mount Weather 2.0 and this time we are the mountain men and she is you pulling that lever.”

Clarke wanted to be angry with Octavia; she wanted to scream and fight but the weight of the truth planted her to the spot and left her should as black as night. Octavia was right. Lexa had used her again. She should have seen it coming. All the signs had pointed to it and if Clarke knew anything of history, it was that it was always destined to repeat itself. The two women didn't have time to contemplate it further as guards flooded the cell. Octavia readied herself to fight but couldn't do much as she watched Clarke let them drag her away without so much as a struggle; hood pulled over her head, sending her world into darkness once again.

“Where are you taking her?!?!” Octavia pleaded but received no answer. She really hoped that this wasn't going to be the last time she saw Clarke.

Clarke wasn't the type of person to give up, she wasn’t but there was only so much one person could take before they broke- Clarke had hit that point.

Standing blindfolded, tethered to a wooden pole, her mind ran over everything that had happened up to this point; almost like it was playing for the last time. Every choice, every death, every sacrifice, every misplaced bit of trust. She couldn't help but feel she deserved what was about to happen to her; even her own people had blamed her for almost everything, so why should she bother fighting her fate any longer?

A slight breeze fluttered by, bringing with it, what Clarke was sure was the smell of the market of Polis. The sun beat down on her from high above and just like she had done earlier she couldn't help but bask in its warmth. She breathed in deep, soaking up the calm it provided. It must have looked a sight; Wanheda tied to a pole in the middle of the capital, enjoying the sunshine. It was then Clarke realised she wasn't alone. A figure had stepped up behind her, hot breath ghosting her ear as they adjusted the rope binding her to the pole.  
“Don’t worry Clarke, your gonna be fine. Ste yuj.”

Clarke frowned to herself when she realised who it was.

“Lincoln? What is happening? Why am I here?”

Lincoln pulled at the rope harshly, causing Clarke to wince as it bit into her skin.

“I’m sorry, I have to make it look real other wise this will all be for nothing. Just go along with whatever happens. You’ll be fine.. I promise.”

Clarke shook her head, she wasn't sure what to do; whether to believe him or not.

“Why should I believe a word you say? I’m tied to a pole in the middle of Polis, nothing about this says trust you.”

She felt Lincoln tense up as chanting began around them.

“HEDA! HEDA! HEDA!”

Clarke mirrored his tense state as she realised that Lexa was about to do whatever it was to save her legacy.

“Don’t worry Clarke. Ste Yuj.”

With that Clarke felt Lincoln’s presence leave her and a slight panic begin to rise in her as the chants got louder and a lot closer than they had been moments before. Her heart pounding away in her ears began to drown out the commotion around her; it was oddly comforting. 

The world came crashing back into reality as the blindfold was removed from her eyes, light flooding her senses. She winced as the light hit her eyes, the world slowly swimming into focus. As soon as her vision had adjusted and she caught a glimpse of the person standing before her Clarke began to struggle against the rope on her wrists; no doubt burning and breaking the skin.  
Lexa stood in front of her, dressed in full military attire, just like she had when she had watched her converge on Arkadia looking for Finn. Clarke would have loved to be able to look her in the eye right now, just to make her see that she was done- no more nice, trusting Clarke.

“People of Polis! We are gathered in the sacred square, just like we've done many a time before to uphold our ways. While we have tried to implement new ideas, it has come to pass that Blood must indeed have blood. The massacre on that battle field will not stand. Time and time again Skaikru have been given a chance to join us, become the 13th clan, but still they prove themselves unwilling to conform to our ways. They refuse to obey the blockade and now the price must be paid. Wanheda will fall today; sending the message to not only Skaikru but to all those who dare to defy the orders of the commander, that any action against me will not be tolerated and will end in death.”

The crowd began to murmur again; oddly confused as to why their commander would put the destroyer of the mountain to death. Clarke watched as Lexa turned around to face her, unsheathing her sword as she went.

“Klork kom Skaikru, legendary Wanheda, any last words??”

Clarke leant forward as far as she could, a scowl firmly placed upon her face.

“Go to hell.”  
Lexa just stared back at Clarke, no sign of emotion on her face; drawing her sword up just like she’d done to Gustus all those months ago. She steadied the blade in front of her, her grip on its hilt deathly tight. She breathed deep.

“Yu gonplei ste odon.”

As Lexa rose the blade up, Clarke began to realise that this was it. She was going to die. Oddly she felt at peace with it, that maybe she would get to see her father and all of her friends that were gone too soon again. Clarke nodded at Lexa, signalling she was ready for whatever was coming.  
Lexa stepped forward, driving the blade into Clarke’s body, “May we meet again.”

As the cold metal pierced her skin like fire, Clarke looked Lexa dead in the eyes, a grunt escaping the depths of her throat. She tried to hold on as long as possible but the pain seared through her body and she passed out.  
As Clarke’s eyes closed and her head lulled forward Lexa removed the blade swiftly. 

“Wanheda is dead! Attendants take her away!”

Two hooded figures moved forward and cut Clarke’s body loose, carrying it away. Lexa closed her eyes and breathed deeply, turning to the crowd.

“It is done! Go back to your tendings!”

The crowd quickly dispersed and as they did so Lexa almost sprinted away after the two hooded figures, catching them as they entered a small structure. They placed Clarke’s body on the table. Lexa felt her stomach drop as she noticed the growing pool of blood around the knife wound. 

“Is she going to be okay?”

One of the figures pushed the hood off their head and looked at Lexa, smiling softly.

“You did exactly what I told you to do. She’s gonna be fine. I promise!”

Abby squeezed her hand gently and went to work preparing to keep her promise.


	4. Explanations pt1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa battles with how she thinks Clarke will react and Octavia gets an unexpected visitor

Lexa sat, head in her hands, weariness printed on her shoulders. She rubbed at her eyes, trying to force herself awake. A breathy sigh escaped her lips and she jumped slightly as a hand was laid gently on her slumped shoulder. 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.” Abby gave her a warm smile, walking around to sit in front of her. Lexa shook her head, sitting back in her chair. The two sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, until Lexa looked at Abby. The look surprised her; Lexa looked so broken, like the youth she still held was finally allowed to exist. 

“What if I did something wrong Abby?” Abby leant forward, elbows on her knees and shook her head. “She’s going to be fine Lexa. You did exactly what I told you to to.” Lexa wasn’t convinced. It took everything she had not to tell Clarke the plan but both Abby and Marcus has convinced her that it was for the best if Clarke was oblivious. Everything hinged on it looking as real as possible; Roan had to be know that Clarke was dead and that he now had no power over her. 

Abby could see the struggle battling its way across Lexa’s face. She knelt down in front of her, placing her hands on Lexa’s knees. “I know we haven't always agreed on things or liked each other all that much but Clarke is someone we both care about very much, whether you want to admit it to me or not. I’m glad you came to me with this. All we both want is for Clarke to be safe and if this gets us that then you did the right thing.”

Lexa trusted Abby’s medical council and knew she would make sure Clarke would be okay physically. Her eyes itched with sleep and for the life of her, unshed tears; she looked Abby in the eyes. “She might be okay physically but she thinks I betrayed her. I don’t think she is going to forgive me for that.” The softness with which Lexa spoke caught Abby off guard. Whenever she had interacted with her before, she had been met with a cold stare, hard exterior and a commanding voice. The girl, and thats what she was, a girl, in front of her was someone totally different. It made Abby’s heart swell a little at the fact that Clarke had someone in her life that would do anything, include risking her hating them, for her. 

“I’m sure she will understand Lexa. It’s gonna take some explaining but she will come around when she realises that you were only trying to keep her safe. Either way, no matter how all of this turns out, I’m grateful to you, for putting her first.” Lexa stood up and pulled Abby into a light embrace, surprising both of them. Abby smiled and returned the hug. “You deserve to be happy too Lexa.” Abby pulled back to look at her, “You deserve to be more than just the leader to your people.” If Abby didn't know better, she could have sworn there had been a hint of a smile ghost across Lexa’s lips. “I had her moved to your chambers. Figured it would be where you’d want her to wake up and where you could keep an eye on her.”

Lexa nodded and thanked her, leaving to go and do just that, keep an eye on her. She had to explain to her what happened, she had to make Clarke understand that she was doing all of this to protect her.

———————————————————————————————————————————

Clarke’s eyes snapped open, breathing hard. Her hands moved to her face, pulling at the tube that delivered oxygen through her nose. She couldn't quite make out her surroundings as the light burnt the edge of her vision, blurring the face that appeared before her. A frown creased her forehead as the world swam back into focus and the face became clear. As soon as it had, the last thing Clarke remembered came flooding back.

Jackson smiled softly at her, “Hey there kid.” Clarke frowned, still a little out of it. Her eyes flickered around the room soaking in the cracked masonry on the walls, the candles flickering around the room and the furs she was currently tucked into. As the realisation of where she was hit her, she tried to sit up but pain and a firm hand on her shoulder stopped her. Clarke winced as the pain in her stomach bit at her insides. She moved the furs aside to inspect where her pain was coming from. As her fingers traced the edge of the bandage, images flashed in her mind; Lexa. The cold steel of a blade. Death. Her mind stopped - wait - she wasn't dead. How? Why? What had happened? The memory flashed in her mind again and without warning, tears began to silently fall. 

“Hey, hey… You’re okay.” Jackson tried to soothe her but could only watch as she passed out once again. Lexa watched the exchange from the edge of the room, her heart aching at Clarke’s pain, confusion and tears. As Clarke passed out again, Lexa rushed over to the beside. “Is she okay?” Jackson nodded and stood up from the bed. “Yes. The aesthetic we administered earlier will leave her groggy for a while. When she fully wakes she’ll be sore but ultimately fine considering. As long as she can rest and recover, she’ll be okay.” With that Jackson pulled the hood over his head and went to meet up with Abby and head back to Arkadia. 

Lexa could feel the disapproval seep through Jackson’s words. He hadn't wanted to help but Abby had talked him into it because he was ultimately one of the only people she trusted to help her do this. She pushed all other thoughts out of her mind and focused on Clarke. She pulled a chair over to the side of the bed. As she went to sit down, she noted a book open on the floor. Her brow furrowing; Clarke must have been looking at it when her men had grabbed her. She lent down and picked up the worn bound book. Thumbing the stencilled titled, she couldn't help but smile; Sun Tzu’s, Art of War, Lexa’s favourite - of course Clarke would have been drawn to it.

Taking the book with her, she sat in the chair next to the bed and opened it; all she could do now was wait, and hope that Clarke would understand. 

———————————————————————————————————————————

The commotion was over as quickly as it had begun. Octavia could hear the people of Polis chanting for their leader and knew it had something to do with where the guards had dragged Clarke off to. She had tried in vain to see out the tiny, barred window but with her hands tied together it just wasn't happening. As everything fell silent again, Octavia had resigned herself to the fact that Clarke was most likely dead and she was going to be locked up one way or another for the rest of her life. Her shoulders slumped forward in defeat as she slid down the wall, her back firmly pressed against the cold stone as if her body was the only thing holding it up. 

The darkness of the cell had begun its work, filtering into her, making her fall in love with it, like a kidnapped girl succumbed to Stockholm syndrome - loving the one thing she had despised her whole life. Eyes drifting closed, a heaviness began to settle on her chest. She tried to fight the flood of emotion that had begun to wash over her; eye prickling with tears. A ragged breath escaped her slightly parted lips. 

“Im sorry….” It was barely audible, as if she had been under water, her voice muffled by the liquid invading her lungs. The thought had been a better prospect than dying in this cell but since there was no water in sight, Octavia knew she was stuck in this state of purgatory. As a few tears that she hadn’t been able to hold off began to fall, a figure moved in the darkness just beyond the front of her cell. her face hardened almost instantly, her hand on reflex, wiped away her tears, not wanting anyone to see her like this. 

“Hello…. who’s there?” The question fell into the darkness, reverberating back off the stone around her. She really hoped someone was there because that would mean she wasn't already losing it and that there was a chance for her to get out of the situation she was in. Silence settled back around her, a frown creasing tan skin. Octavia sighed, if this was her mind slowly slipping away then bugger it she was going to let it. She settled back against the wall, her eyes once again fluttering closed.

“I expected more.” Octavia froze, her blood running cold. She dared not to breathe as if any slight movement would end her life. Shuffled footsteps approached, her eyes searching the darkness. “Skaikru, more at home on the ground, became a warrior. I expected you to try harder than this.” The darkened figure of Titus stepped into the sliver of light being projected down from the window about Octavia’s head. “Maybe you need some incentive? A driving force hmm? Where did all that rage go, that willingness to kill, just like you had when you slaughtered 300 of the commanders people?”

Octavia bristled. She really didn't like Titus. Something about him made her skin crawl. While she hadn't had any prolonged interaction with him, she knew his objective in life was to uphold the ground way of Jus drien jus daun. Getting to her feet, Octavia stayed pressed to the back of the cell, not wanting to give him any opportunity to carry out his life’s work. “I had nothing to do with that - neither did Clarke.”

Titus stepped further into the light, looking Octavia in the eyes. “Wanheda is no longer an issue. The commander death with her herself. Blood must have blood and now that heda has all of Wanheda’s power, Skaikru will fall. The question is, which side do you stand on? You dont seek peace, you dont fit in with Skaikru, all you want is to be free.” He paused for a moment, letting everything he’d said sink in before delivering the punch line. “With lincoln.” 

Octavia’s eyes shot to his own, stepping forward, “Lincoln’s in Polis? What about the kill order?” Titus cocked his head to the side, “Heda lifted his banishment and the order for his death as he helped her take down Wanheda.” Octavia shook her head, tears now welling in her eyes, on the verge of flowing free. “No….. No. He wouldn't do that. Lincoln wanted peace more than any of us. Clarke saved his life, he wouldn't willingly help kill her.”

Somehow Titus’s face managed to darken further, his worn features becoming something out of Octavia’s worst nightmares from living under the floor on the ark. “You under estimate how he feels about you and what those feelings will drive him to do. Clarke is gone and war is coming. You need to make a choice Octavia… you either die with the rest of Skaikru or you can give me what I need to ensure the commander’s victory and you and Lincoln will be free to live as you choose under the commander’s protection.” 

Without further word Titus disappeared back into the darkness, leaving an icy cold feeling gripping Octavia. What the hell was she supposed to do now?

———————————————————————————————————————————

The beginnings of consciousness pricked the edges of Clarke’s vision. Her eye lids fluttered gently, trying to adjust to her increasing awareness. She couldn't help the strained gurgle that slipped its way up her throat. As each moment passed she became more aware of the pain piercing her abdomen. A groan burst through her parted lips and she moved her hands gently over the bandaged wound. Her eyes flung open, the world shifting, dotting her vision with images of the past, jumping slightly as something thumped onto the flood beside her, propelling her into a sitting position. Pain ripped through her and all she could do was clutch at her stomach, applying pressure to try and alleviate it. Tears welled in her eyes and began tracking down her cheeks as she closed her eyes.

Breathing deeply she tried to adjust to the position she found herself in. A gentle frown creased her forehead as the bed dipped beside her and warm hands cupped her face, thumbs wiping away the tears. Her lip trembled at the touch. Long, gentle fingers cupped her face, pressing against the pulse points on her neck. More tears flowed now, her closed eyes unable to contain them. A ragged breathe crept through her teeth as the thumbs traced delicate lines along her cheek bones. She couldn't bring herself to open her eyes. The reality would come crashing back into her, relieving her of breath and the heat the two hands on her provided, leaving her face to face with the person who had tried to kill her. Right now, with closed eyes, she was safe, held together, oblivious to the danger before her. 

“Clarke?” The name slipped from Lexa’s lips, barely a whisper but thick with concern, “Are you alright?”

The husk in lexa’s voice clenched at Clarke’s heart. She couldn't understand how someone that made her heart skip a beat and her soul melt just by hearing her voice, could hurt her; betray her so intrinsically. The want to open her eyes and stare into the green pools that were Lexa’s was almost to much to bear. NO. Clarke thought. She wanted to remain oblivious for a little while longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was so short. It kicked my ass. I felt I needed to post what i had written (Hence this one is pt 1) because it would free my mind to go on with the rest of the explanations.


	5. Explanations pt2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke is hurting. Lexa knows she's screwed up. Octavia makes a choice and comes to regret it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY it has taken me forever to update. Life has been hectic. I promise to try and do better.

The moon sat high above the Capital Spire, illuminating all it touched below. Perched on a balcony near the top of the spire, Lexa surveyed the Capital before her. Orange fire- light dotted the structures and a slight breeze made the smells of the nights feast dance inside her nostrils. She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent; shoulders slumping heavily as she let it back out, tension knotting the muscles almost painfully. She shifted on the spot as a figure stepped up beside her. The city before her melted away. Lexa’s pulse thumped heavily in her ears, slightly flushing her skin.

“I know what you’re going to say. That I am being weak, that my feelings for Clarke betray everything that has been set before me.” Lexa turned to look at the figure, facing her profile. “Have we not sacrificed and suffered enough?” The woman, Becca, finally turned to face Lexa, head tilted to the side ever so slightly.

“Lexa, you have achieved so much and the commander’s spirit chose you because you proved to be the strongest. It has been 97 years since I came to our people- my intention was to rebuild what I broke, to make sure that we survived. Blood must have blood has been the way because only the strong survive. Our ancestors relied on feelings and it ended them.” Lexa’s eyes searched Becca’s own for any common ground she could walk to convince her but found only a clinical facade, giving her the feeling of Becca not actually having been real at all.

“I admire you Lexa. You’ve done what so many before you have failed to do. Our people are one again, the clans united under your strength. You can’t let how you feel get in the way of furthering your progress.” 

Lightening cracked across the sky, thunder rolling in just behind it, shaking Lexa’s soul. She looked at the clouds that had begun to gather above her. Another crack permeated the sky and Lexa knew what was happening. She looked back at Becca who smiled sadly at her. “You know what must be done, Ste yuj.” As another crack of lightening lit up the sky Lexa jumped, crashing her back into the reality of Polis, the book on her lap clattering to the floor with a thud. Her eyes shot to the bed she sat beside. 

Clarke was sitting up, trembling, eyes closed. Lexa shifted from the chair to the bed, gentle hands cupping Clarke’s distressed face. Her heart clenched painfully as tears slipped their way down Clarke’s cheeks, leaving tracks as they went. It took everything Lexa had not to kiss them away. Instead she caught them with the pad of her thumbs, gently gliding back and forth across her cheek bones. Clarke’s lips trembled at her touch; and something inside Lexa shattered. Was Clarke afraid of her? She swallowed the bile that was rising in her throat and pushed her thoughts aside. Clarke was the priority; there would be plenty of time to answer her own questions later. She licked her lips, having lost all moisture in them as she sat in front of Clarke. 

“Clarke?” Lexa whispered, unable to hold any sort of volume in her voice. She swallowed thickly, “Are you okay?” Her eyes remained fervently closed, the only reaction that told Lexa that Clarke had heard her was the flood of tears that seeped out of her closed eyes. What Lexa wouldn't give to look into those baby blues, to convey everything by staring into Clarke’s soul. She blew a shaky breath thought taught lips. It was now or never.

“I’m sorry Clarke.” The weight of the words crashed from her lips like the waves of the ocean onto the beach. Clarke’s lips trembled and Lexa ran her thumb over them, trying to show her that it was okay; that she was okay. “I don’t expect you to be able to forgive me but I need you to know that you’re safe now and what I did, I did to protect you.”

Lexa jumped slightly as Clarke’s eyes flew open, red and angry, wrenching her face away from the hands cupping her cheeks. Everything seemed to melt away around them, only the heat of Clarke’s anger left in the space between them. Lexa’s eyes darted back and forth into Clarke’s; the ocean blues, tinged red and coated like glass from unshed tears. She wanted to kiss her lips, pour herself into Clarke, make everything okay again. Her heart constructed painfully as Clarke pulled further away from her, shaking her head.

“You’re… sorry?” The statement croaked out of a dry lips, as Clarke swallowed thickly, trying to force some moisture back into her throat. Lexa didn't know how to respond, her mind was swimming. Pushing the fur blankets further away from her, Clarke lifted her shirt, revealing the bandaged area. Lexa’s eyes fell to the battered and bruised skin that peeked out from beneath the bandage; a patch of red had begun to seep through. Lexa went to caress the area but thought better of it. Clarke placed her hand over the area and winced as she shuffled back up the bed to rest against its frame; further away from Lexa. Once she settle against the wood, she looked at Lexa, who was intently focused on her hands in front of her. “You took your sword, one I’ve seen you use to kill countless people, and you tried to end my life.” At this Lexa’s eyes shot to Clarke’s, full of sadness and pleading, “Clarke… this was the only way I could keep you safe.. Keep you alive. This was all to protect you.” 

Clarke scoffed at her; a throaty chuckle almost, escaping her lips. “If this is what protection is to you, then I don’t want it. You act like you saved the day, when in reality, everything is more broken now than it was before. How does spilling my blood protect me?” A silence fell between the pair, Clarke breathed in deep, the pain in her abdomen firing up as her lungs contracted. She opened her eyes, to find Lexa looking at her. She seemed broken. Face painted with the weariness of not having slept in a few days and her eyes filled with sorrow, clouding the usually bright greens with an almost black tinge. Clarke huffed in annoyance, waiting for an answer. Lexa swallowed heavily, “I had to make sure Roan thought you were dead, and the only way to do that was to actually show people that I was willing to uphold the kill order. Abby instruc-“ 

Clarke’s eyes narrowed at her; furious and full of disdain Her chest rose and fall sharply, air not quite filling the full expanse of her lungs. “My mom.. knew about this? She helped you?” Lexa nodded, frowning at just how hard Clarke was having to work to force air into her lungs. “Clarke you need to stay calm.. try and breathe.” Lexa shuffled towards her on the bed but was stopped as Clarke put her hands in front of her. “No.. don’t. You don’t get to pretend you care. Its always your way thats best.. whatever you want to do goes, and screw anyone that gets in your way. You once said to me that I couldn't fix everything… Take your own words and choke on them Lexa, you cant fix this.” Clarke's breath caught in her throat, causing her to cough. She closed her eyes and leant her head against the frame behind her. After a few moments, her breathing became a little easier and she opened her eyes once again; Lexa still in front of her. “You want to protect me Lexa? I think the only way anyone is ever safe is to be as far away from you as possible. You bleed everything you touch. Jus drein jus Daun right? Well I won't let you have any more of mine.” Lexa rose from the bed and turned to leave, knowing that Clarke had subliminally asked her to leave. Before she exited the room she turned back, looking at Clarke who had a pained look on her face. “Whether you believe me or not Clarke, I am sorry that it had to be this way.” Clarke narrowed her eyes, venom spilling into her mouth as she listened; her face devoid of caring any longer. “Go float yourself.”

—————————————————————————————————————————————

Octavia stumbled forward, the darkness of the hood over her head, obscuring any hope of figuring out where she was being taken. She had come to a decision about Titus’s offer, in what she could only assume was the middle of the night. A guard had come for her then; hood placed over her head marching to god only knew where. The darkness of the cell had given her time to think about everything. Her life had ran like film through a projector in her mind; every thing that she had gone through, on the ark and when she had gotten to the ground. She came to the conclusion that she had only really started living when she had been sent to the ground to die. It had tossed her world upside down but it had also given her family, friends and now a great love. Lincoln had been one of the only people who knew who she truly was, who had helped her become the person she was meant to be. Everything she had tried to achieve was to make sure she could build a life with Lincoln. Of course she cared about the safety of her friends and wanted them to be able to have a good life too but after everything had happened and now with Clarke being dead, she didn't see the point in trying for peace for anyone else when they hadn't really done anything to deserve it. Her heart ached as she thought of Clarke and about the last things she had said to her. The choice she had made to help Titus with Lexa’s plan was partially made to make sure Clarke’s death wasn't for nothing. If Octavia could do one thing to honour Clarke it would be to see that Lexa would remain alive and commander of the 12 Clans. She didn't see what Clarke saw in Lexa as a person, but Octavia knew of the great warrior that was inside of her; the one who would let villages burn, who would kill her most trusted protector, all for the good of her people, to keep them going. 

The rope bit at her wrists, no doubt breaking and bruising the skin. They had been walking for what seemed like hours now; step after step onto foreign ground and Octavia had begun to wonder if she was being marched to her own death. It wouldn't be the first time and she figured trusting Titus was always going to be a bad idea, but she was out of options. Slack dipped in between her hands and the rope being used to pull her along. She slowed to a stop, thankful for the break. A slight breeze blew through the ends of her hair, caressing her face, a welcomed feeling. She tensed as a figure stepped into her personal space, her breath catching in her throat. A hand moved to the top of the hood, grabbing at the rough material. In one swift move, her world was flooded with light, bright circles burning into her vision. She blinked furiously trying to adjust to the sudden change of ambience. As her eyes adjusted she got her first glimpse of the man who had been leading her along as well as her surroundings. The sun was high in the sky, filtering through the tree tops above her, the breeze swaying the leaves side to side, creating intricate patterns dancing in the shadowy pools around them. The man stood a few feet away from her, eyes planted anywhere but on her. Without a word he shoved a water vessel at her, motioning for her to drink. She took it, offering him a grateful smile when he slipped a quick glance in her direction. 

The water slipped down her throat, offering her a quench to the thirst she hadn't realised she had until that very moment. Once she’d had enough she stepped up to the man and offered it back to him. He took it, placing it back on his side; still not giving her another glance. She was curious as to why he wouldn't look at her. Walking around in front of him, she stood directly in his line of vision but he looked straight ahead, almost through her in a sense. He didn't appear to be that old, but his face bore scars of battles fought, won and presumably lost. The one thing that struck Octavia was the softness of his eyes; the milky whites giving way to star speckled midnight blues. “I know with the hood on it was pretty hard to look at me, but now that its not covering my face you can look at me.” The man shifted on the spot, gaze still planted ahead of him. She stepped closer to him and he visibly tensed and straightened his posture. “Seriously? What’s your deal. You've been dragging me through god knows what to lead me to god knows where we are, the least you could do is look at me.” Silence echoed around them, pierced by the occasional call of a bird or unseen falling branch. Octavia shook her head, “I’m having a little trouble holding up both ends of this conversation.” The man’s gaze flickered for a moment before righting itself in front of him again. He let out a steady breath. “I can not…. look at you.” Octavia frowned and let out the slightest hint of a chuckle. “And why is that? Do I have something on my face that will cause your vision to implode or something?” This caught the man off guard and his eyes drifted to hers properly for the first time since she had been released from the hood. After a few moments his gaze shifted around them, searching for anyone else that could possibly see this infraction. He licked his lips, coating them, easing them of their roughness, “I can not look at you because you belong to someone else. When one has been claimed, another can not look at them without permission.” Octavia raised a curious eyebrow, “I.. don’t belong to anyone. No one owns me.” The man shook his head, disagreeing with her, “You, Octavia kom Skaikru , have been claimed and as our ways stand, he who looks upon those that does not belong to him, will suffer the rage of the ritual and I for one do not wish to anger Lincoln,” Octavia’s eyes widened at the mention of his name, her breath crashing out of her. “Lincoln?… He’s coming for me?” The man dipped his head in acknowledgement, “But first, we meet with Titus.” Leaning her back against a nearby tree Octavia pondered what all of that had meant. “So you know my name… What’s yours?” He looked around, once again surveying if anyone was about; his eyes connecting with hers. “I am Tiemo…” 

Octavia smiled at him but it soon faded as the light in his eyes dimmed and blood began spilling from his mouth. Her gazed shifted from his eyes to his chest, where an inch of blade was poking out, blood pooling around it. A low grunt escaped Tiemo’s throat as he looked down at his chest, hands rising, unsure about what was happening. His gaze flicked back to Octavia as the knife was pulled out of him and he fell to the ground. As if hell itself had spat him out, there stood Titus, gaze locked on Octavia, blade by his side, dripping with blood. A shallow breath stuttered from her lips as her eyes welled with tears at the atrocity she had just witnessed. 

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Clarke shifted her legs over the side of the bed, wincing at the pain that began shooting through her core. Tentatively she placed her feet on the floor; the cold stone curling her toes. Pushing through the pain, Clarke stood up and slowly makes her way over to the door. Her mind had been running non stop since Lexa had told her about everything. It clawed at her heart to think that people that were supposed to love her had worked together to cause her so much pain; both physically and emotionally. The walls of the room she was in had begun to close in around her. The bed she was currently in felt oversized and cold; unlike the day before when she had shared it with Lexa. It had forced her to move, she needed to get out of this room; she needed to leave Polis, get away from everything. The memories of the mountain and aftermath played in her mind as well. She had left then too; run into the wilderness, to be as far away from the things she had done. The decision had been hers and while she knew it was for the good of everyone, it also bit at her soul to think she had to take so much from everyone else to save them and that was something she couldn't stand to be reminded of daily. Clarke reached for the door hand, jiggling it gently; locked. Of course it was locked. Lexa wasn't that stupid. If Clarke could say one thing about Lexa, it was that she knew Clarke and right now Clarke hated it. She hated how Lexa could anticipate what Clarke was thinking, what she would do and the fact the she knew Clarke had feelings for her. She gritted her teeth and huffed in annoyance. It was just like her to fall for the one person who could keep a whole hoard of warriors at bay and know to lock the door to the room she was now trapped in. Peering through the cracked glass, Clarke noticed that there were two guards standing on either side of the door; probably their to protect her as well as keep her stowed away in this room. Turning a full circle, Clarke eyed the room carefully. There had to be some way she could get herself out. Her eyes fell on the abundant collection of candles. Her brow creased into a frown, thoughts dancing across her mind. Maybe she could cause a distraction, have the guards rush in and she could slip out. She nodded internally, deciding that a distraction would be the best way for her to leave without causing to much of a scene. Walking over to the table, Clarke lifted one of the candle holders, the weight of it feeling comfortable in her hand. Yes, she thought. This would do just nicely.


	6. Fight or flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Escape. Thats all everyone wants. To get to freedom. We do what we must to get what we want, even if it means believing someone we care about could do the unthinkable or that they are lost to us forever. The wheels are in motion and its all downhill from here

Lexa eyed Roan with a hard glare, her eye almost twitching in reciprocated anger. She hated that she had to go to extreme lengths to keep Clarke safe and wanted nothing more than to strike him from this earth but knew that her already tenuous coalition wouldn't survive the death of another one of their leaders. Roan smirked at her from across the large tent, that had been erected just outside of the capitol gates. Lexa had travelled to the makeshift city after her conversation with Clarke. She needed things to move faster, to make sure Clarke understood. 

Roan stood from his throne and slowly meandered his way over to Lexa, who had situated herself near every available exit. She was protected by guards of course but couldn't leave anything to chance if something were to happen. She was pulled from her thoughts by Roan’s smooth voice. “I didn't think you had it in you Lexa.” Lexa grimaced at the way her name fell from her lips, a cold seeping into her soul as if she had been born to the ice nation herself. A silent shudder rippled through her body at the thought of being Azgeda born. She was a proud Trikru warrior and now Heda of her entire people. “I did what had to be done for my people.” A smile pulled at the corner of Roan’s mouth and crept up to his eyes; it put Lexa on edge. He peered at her over the edge of the goblet at his lips. A tense silence echoed around the tent for a few moments before Roan spoke again. “How did it feel?” 

The question hit Lexa square in the chest, almost knocking the breath completely out of her. It took her a few moments to register the silence that had fallen around them, and that Roan was now eyeing her curiously; a smirk filtering across his lips, waiting for the painful response. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Lexa stared into Roan’s eyes, “how did you feel when I executed your mother?” Lexa saw his grip tighten around the stem of his cup, knuckles locking into a bone white struggle with its surface. Feeling her normal fire rise back up into her chest, Lexa stepped towards the larger man. “I did what I had to, to make sure it is clear that no one goes against us. This was a choice I made with my head and not my heart. Now the question is, does Azgeda take issue with any more of my decisions?” 

Roan let the accusation sit on his ear for a few silent moments, knowing the repercussions if he were to say anything out of turn, before bowing his head slightly in respect. “Heda… You will find no questions here. There can be no subject of disloyalty when our leader is willing to sacrifice even those who care for her in service of her people.” Even though Lexa knew none of his words held merit, as Clarke was not in fact dead, but the mere suggestion at the thought was enough to fill her heart with lead, a heaviness settling back onto her chest. “Then I suggest you move your forces away from the gates of Polis and go back to you lands.” With that Lexa turned and made to leave the tent but stopped short, “your mother would be proud.” Without turning she left the tent, leaving Roan to ponder her meaning.

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Clarke crept back over to the door and peered through the crack in the glass once more; one guard stood by the door. She took a deep breath and positioned herself on one side of the door, preparing to get the hell out of dodge. Tightening her grip on the candle holder, she brought it above her head and screamed as if she was in pain or being attacked. The door flew open, the guard crashing though it. Clarke brought down the object with all her might and struck the man in the head; a resounding crack bounced off the smooth surfaces in the room. Gravity did the rest, and he crashed to the floor in a heap. The candle holder clattered to the floor and Clarke sprang into action, grabbing his sword and stripping him of his outer armour. Once adorned in the guards minimal armour, Clarke poked her head out of the doors that had held her hostage for god only knew how long. The corridor was clear and with tentative steps, she crept her way towards the elevator and waiting exit. She hoped that the material covering her face would be enough to fool the guard in the elevator; not wanting to have to resort to drastic measures to ensure her escape. Pondering that thought for a moment almost made her chuckle; she did just hit a man over the head with a candle stick, steal his armour and clothes, leaving him sprawled out on the floor of Lexa’s bedroom. As she moved to round the last corner towards the elevator, a sharp pain seared through her abdomen. She knew that her internal organs were damning her to hell for being upright and on the move, and the slick coating on her stomach, she knew was blood, seeping from her wound but she had to get out, get to freedom, away from this place that had already cost her so much. Sucking in a hardening breath, Clarke continued, making it towards her waiting ride to the bustling city below her. Forcing her stature as tall and as broad as she could manage, Clarke stood before the guard at the elevators door. She dared not speak and the guard did not seem to mind. With a displeased groan the elevator rose up before her, she entered quickly, avoiding any and all eye contact with the guard she was now leaving behind closing doors. As the metal surfaces touched, Clarke slumped heavily against the wall, hoping it would bear her weight, relieving some of the pressure she felt building in her stomach. Shifting the armour to one side, she lifted the thin material serving as her shirt, its surface slick with blood. She knew if she didn't either stop the bleeding soon, or slow down she would pass out and she’d be stuck here once again. Through gritted teeth, Clarke pushed off the wall, head tucked into her chest as the elevator slowed to a stop and its doors slid open, the city bustling into the confined space around her. 

Glancing out before her, she made her exit into the hustle and bustle of Polis, blending in with the traders, stall owners and habitants. The crowd parted slightly for her as she pushed forth towards the city gates. No one seemed to take notice of her, each going about their day oblivious to the Sky leader moving amongst them. The slightest bit of relief sucked its way into her chest as the city gates appeared before her but as she turned onto the main lane leading towards them, the air leaked from her lungs as the figure of Lexa, accompanied by a cluster of guards advanced towards her. She stopped dead in her tracks, eyes locked on the commander, who was talking to one of her generals. The pounding of her heart beat in her ears and her laboured breathing blocked out the sounds of the city. Time seemed to slow around her and it took a man she didn't know bumping into her to make reality come crashing back down on top of her. Chest heaving with ragged breaths, Clarke pushed through the flow of the crowd, down an alley, meshing herself against the stone surface of a wall, bleeding into it, hoping it would shield her from discovery. Boots pounded the stone pathway, their echoes, reverberating towards her. Holding her breath, Clarke waiting, praying to the gods of the old world, that the group would venture past her without notice. 

—————————————————————————————————————

Octavia backed away slowly, stumbling on the uneven surface of the ground beneath her feet, Titus advancing on her, blood dipped blade still in hand as he stepped over Tiemo’s lifeless body.. Her back nudged into the bark of a tree, stopping her dead in her tracks. Hands still bound together by rope, all she could do not to fall was let the tree take her full weight. Titus stopped a mere step away from her, eyes devoid of anything resembling emotion that Octavia could plead to. Even if there was, what would be the point, she knew grounder ways, you didn't plead for your life; you died with dignity and proudly, like a warrior. As the blade he had used to so carelessly snuff out Tiemo’s life was lifted towards her, Octavia pushed off the tree and stood tall. If this was how she was going to die, she would be doing so like the warrior Lincoln had shown her to be. She squared her shoulders and braced for the cold steel to slice through her like a river carving its way through the mountains to the sea. It never came, instead, Titus grabbed the rope on her wrist and cut her loose. Although relieved, Octavia couldn't help but be confused about the whole situation.

“ So your not going to kill me?” Titus’s gaze drifted to her own, his head tilting to the side slightly in response. “No…” He took a step back from her and put the blade back inside the lengths of his cloak. Octavia shuffled a little further away from him as well, rubbing the burnt and torn skin of her wrists. “Then why march me out here to the middle of nowhere blindfolded? Ive become one with nature and all that but I’m not into the whole watch people get murdered for fun kinda thing.” Titus reached into his cloak once more and Octavia visibly tensed, breath catching in her chest. From what she had seen of Titus, anything could be coming her way. Her blood ran cold as he removed an all to familiar object from the depths of the cloak; Clarke’s father’s watch. Unwanted tears began to well in her eyes, the heavy weight of truth bearing down on her. She swallowed hard trying to quell the bile rising in the back of her throat. 

Titus looked from the watch up to Octavia, extending his arm towards her, silently commanding her to take it; and she did. Her arm shot out and took the most prized possession she had known Clarke to own. Its worn strap and slightly cracked face mirrored everything that they had been through to get to this point; being imprisoned on the Ark. Being sent down to Earth on the drop ship. Fighting for their lives, trying to survive grounders and mountain men alike and now here she stood, holding on to the last bit of her friend. 

“The drop ship you arrived on is about 2 miles in that direction.” Octavia pulled herself from her thoughts and followed his extended arm. “ I sent word to skaikru, some of them will meet you there. Now you must go Octavia Kom Skaikru. Tell your people what has happened here. Tell them Wanheda is dead and Jus drein Jus Daun.” Something inside her clicked into place. Her blood seemed to boil and bubble with a renewed hatred; something she had not known against the grounders but now that she stood faced with the truth of just how merciless they were, it came crashing over her like the waves of the ocean she had only heard about. “GO now!” As if compelled by his words, Octavia shot off into the forest, back to where everything had begun; and if she had anything to do with it, where it would all end. 

Clarke would be avenged.


	7. All of the things at play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is what it is.. A sort of way point, tying the loose threads together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know its been FOREVVVVER since i posted a chapter... But 2016 y'all.. it almost killed me. But a friend of mine inspired me to get back into it.. I hope to bring more regular updates from now on.. Thanks for sticking by me and this story tho.. much more craziness to come  
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lexa’s boots pounded the ground, beating her path back towards the central spire and to Clarke. As she marched on, speaking to her trusted general Elias, a figure in the crowd before her caught her eye. She blinked and looked again but the figure had disappeared. Shaking it off she continued towards her destination, hoping that Clarke had been thinking about what she had said and had come to the realisation that she wasn't the enemy. As her men dispersed around her, save for her personal guard, she entered the elevator that would bring her back up to her chambers and to the waiting Skaikru leader. Lexa sighed heavily as the doors slid closed behind her, the guard with her glanced cautiously over at her, a pang of worry etching its way across his features. Turning, Lexa caught the guards glance, who immediately removed his eyes from her direction. 

“What is on your mind?” Lexa asked gently.

The guard glanced in her direction once more, looking for any sign that he shouldn't continue. He found none. A moment passed between them before the warrior spoke.

“Forgive me for my assumptions heda, but you seem troubled?”

If Lexa thought it proper, she would have smiled at the young warrior, but knew to hold her authority around her subjects, letting it bloom internally. She placed her hands behind her back, one grasping the wrist of the other, squaring her shoulders and stepped up beside the man. 

“Forgiveness is not required Axom, I appreciate your concern but fear not. While there are things at play in our great capitol, I have them firmly in hand. We will endure” Lexa stated factually, like a rehearsed speech she’d given over and over again. 

Axom nodded curtly, knowing that Lexa would lead them through anything that came their way. As the elevator grumbled to a stop and the doors slid open, Axom resumed his stiff facade and waited for Lexa to exit before he followed a few steps behind. The level that Lexa’s quarters claimed was always relatively quiet given that no one was permitted there unless invited or instructed, but everything seemed almost too quiet. Lexa frowned as she slowly advanced through the level towards her chambers. Rounding the last corner, her hand gravitated towards her dagger, ready for what might lay ahead. The confusion that swept across her face at the sight of her guard- less door, was fleeting but still caused her to quicken her pace, Axom close behind her. As they both approached the door, Lexa held a hand up to stop Axom’s advance. 

“Wait here.” A simple command.

Axom nodded and held station to the left hand side of the door as Lexa steadied herself to what she might find when she entered her chambers. Dagger in one hand, she pushed on the door which sat slightly ajar. The door groaned at the effort, its hinges screaming in agony as it swung open slowly. Lexa’s eyes flickered around the room, from the bed to every corner she could see from her position at its entrance, until they fell on the half naked guard passed out on her chamber floor. She pushed further into the room, and knelt down beside the figure, checking to see if he was still breathing, the rise and fall of his chest signalling that he was. A smudge of blood stained her floor from where the man’s head wound had laid against it. The candle holder discarded on the floor next to the man caught her eye, slender fingers reaching for its blood slick surface. She frowned and looked around the room once more, a silent rage bubbling up from the depths of her gut into her chest. Clarke was nowhere to be seen and one of her guards lay accosted on her chamber floor. Her knuckles bit bone white as she clenched her fist in an attempt to quell her anger. She rose from her position next to the unconscious man and beckoned Axom inside.

“Axom.. please enter my chambers,” Lexa commanded, the words bitter on her tongue. 

Axom was momentarily confused but shook it off and did as his heda instructed. As he pushed through the door, eyes laying on the guard on the floor, his reflexes snapped into play and he went to withdraw his weapon, sheathed at his hip. Lexa raised her hand in reassurance. 

“That will not be necessary.” She took a breath before continuing. The guard before her not moving from his heightened stance. “Can I assume that your loyalties lie with me as your heda and as such I can trust you with a matter of great importance?” Axom relaxed his stance, pushing his blade back into his sheath. He knelt down on one knee and bowed his head towards Lexa. 

“Of course heda. Anything you need.” Axom lifted his head and as Lexa nodded he rose to his feet. Lexa knew that this could be a possibility when she had come up with this plan. She had to figure out what was to come next and what had happened to Clarke. Had she been taken or had she assaulted her guard and left the capitol? Lexa knew internally that Clarke had probably escaped of her own accord. She was angry and hurt and Lexa knew that both of those things made for bad decision making. She closed her eyes momentarily before beginning to explain to the young man. 

“As one of my personal guards I am sure you are aware of the events that took place in the square early today, the slaying of Wanheda.” The words tasted foul as they crept up her throat, leaping from her lips and settled themselves on the space between them. Axom only nodded in response and waited for his commander to continue. 

“This action was in fact all a ruse to stop Roan and the ice nation from invading our walls. Wanheda is in fact alive. She has been under guard here, in my chambers since the display in the square. It would appear she has left the safety these walls provide. I need you to find her and bring her back here.” 

Axom stood to attention and nodded again, “Yes heda.” Lexa nodded back at him curtly, “Tell no one of this. Your silence and the safe return of Wanheda is imperative. Know that your life is at stake with this task.” A moment of silent understanding fell between the pair. “Now GO!!” With his dismissal, Axom hurried out of the room. Lexa turned on her heel and headed out onto the balcony she had shared with Clarke only a day ago, looking out at the city before her, hoping to find Clarke before it was too late. 

—————————————————————————————————————

The drop ship loomed over her as she stumbled through the clearing of bright green grass. Reaching the door of the drop ship, she collapsed to her knees and then fell onto her back, the half walk, half stumble she had been through to get here, flooding over her. She looked at the sky through the swaying trees above her, her breathing syncing up with the gentle breeze that graced her flushed cheeks as she closed her eyes, the world seemingly stilling around her. 

It could have been moments or hours that had gone by, but as Octavia scrambled to her feet in the clearing, she couldn't tell. Her ragged breaths ripping through tired lungs, her heart hammering against a chest that had already seen too much sorrow. She looked around quickly, eyeing every moving thing as if it was going to come after her. Her eyes caught a glimpse of something familiar just on the tree line and she had to blink furiously to make sure that what she was seeing was actually there and not some mirage her mind had concocted to pull her deeper into unconsciousness. No. The figure coming towards her was definitely real and for the most part always a welcome sight. She jogged forwards as the figure neared and jumped into his arms. 

“Bell!” 

Bellamy held on to Octavia for dear life, his arms wrapping around her tiny frame effortlessly. After a few moments he placed her gently back on her feet and looked her over for any signs of injury; his gaze lingering on the burns and cuts on her wrists. She shook her head, “I’m fine big brother. but…” Her voice betrayed her, the words dying in her throat. Bellamy frowned and bent down slightly to look her in the eyes, “O, what is it? What’s wrong?” She couldn't bring herself to say the impossible things that had occurred, instead she reached into her pocket and clutched at the prized possession there. Pulling it out slowly as not to startle her bother, rifle over his shoulder, and handed the watch to him, tears welling in her eyes at what that single item had meant to the one person who had always tried to save them. No one had been there to save her though. No one had put themselves on the line for her when she needed it the most. She had been abandoned by those she had fought so hard to keep alive, for whom she had sacrificed more than she should have. 

Bellamy let the weight of the object that Octavia had placed in his hand wash over him. Running his thumb over it’s one smooth surface, the realisation hit him square in the chest, knocking the air from his lungs. A strangle cry crept its way up his throat but he managed to catch most of it, clearing his throat heavily. His fingers uncurled from around the object her knew to be Clarke’s watch. He looked at it, needed to make sure, that somehow seeing it made it more real. “O… where is Clarke? His voice was thick with distress and his eyes had now rimmed red with tears he wouldn't let himself shed. Octavia wiped the tears tracking their way down her cheeks away and blew a heavy breath out of pursed lips. Swallowing hard, she knew that Bellamy needed to hear the words, “ She’s dead. They killed her Bell. She trusted them, and they killed her for it.” Bellamy’s eyes drifted closed at every word, his grip tightening around the sacred object in his hand; a solitary tear defying orders, rolled down his cheek. “They were going to kill me too but apparently they needed someone to deliver their message. After murdering a man right in front of me, Titus let me go and told me to tell everyone that Wanheda is dead and Jus drein jus daun.” Bellamy’s eyes snapped open at the mention of Titus, a rage bubbling up inside him. He knew that if Titus was involved then it was at the behest of Lexa. Octavia looked at her brother and knew what he was thinking and feeling, “We will avenge her Bell. I promise you.” He pulled her into his chest, her ear finding his heart beat, echoing coldly in his chest. Guiding her away from the drop ship, they headed back towards Arkadia and the faces of those Clarke had saved from certain death more than once. Bellamy wasn't sure how he was going to tell abby that her daughter was now dead at the hands of the grounders, after he had sworn to protect her; what he did know was that Octavia was right, Clarke would be avenged. 

—————————————————————————————————————

As the heavy foot falls of the commander and her entourage passed and receded into the distance, Clarke let out the breath she had been holding in, her lungs burning. She collapsed heavily against the wall behind her and took a moment to breathe, eyes fluttering shut against the golden sun. After a few moments she pushed off the wall and continued her exit to freedom. Although he had been in Polis for some time, she still wasn't familiar with all of the passageways and alleys that made up the capitol. She looked ahead of her for the telltale gates that signalled the main entrance but was met with only more tents, traders and passageways. In her haste she had gotten turned around somewhere and lost sight of the one thing she knew to be solid; the gates leading out of Polis and to the path back to Arkadia. 

A slight pang of guilt hit her at the thought of leaving Octavia locked up in that cell but she knew he had to make it out and back to her people. She turned on the spot, looking in all directions for a familiar landmark that would tell her where in Polis she was. People milled about around her, going about their daily business, completely oblivious to her existence among them which is why she hadn't been expecting the hand that clamped over her mouth, dragging her silently into a near by passage out of view of the copious amounts of people she had just been in the middle of. She struggled against the figure but as she looked into their eyes she knew it was fruitless. This was Titus. She knew she was about to disappear for good and not to some tropical island she’d only heard or and read about in books on the Ark. No. She would be ending up where no one would ever find her ever again. 

Titus release his hand from around her mouth but before she could scream for help, he injected her with something, the needle diving deep into the muscles of her neck. Catching her before she fell, Titus swung her into his arms and marched towards his next destination. Everything was falling into place. He knew that Lexa wouldn’t be happy if she learned of his betrayal and defiance of her orders, but it was for the good of the people; love was weakness and he didn't want his greatest work destroyed by a girl who knew nothing of their history or their ways. Deep down he knew he was right. He had been flame keeper for three concurrent Heda’s and Lexa had proven herself to be the best of them all. A tainted grin slipped its way across Titus’s lips as he carried Clarke through an under ground passage. Yes, he thought, he would get what he wanted soon enough and then everything he'd every done would be worth while, he'd no longer be just a servant. 

No one questioned him as the passed, rather, acting like he didn't exist at all, as if they knew the very sight of Titus meant the will of the commander, and Titus knew this. They both feared and respected the man who stood at heda’s side. Orange torch light flickered off the heavy wooden door as he came to stop in front of it. As if on pure will alone, the door opened and Titus floated inside, Clarke still unconscious in his arms, her weight seemingly unregistered. A stone alter penetrated the centre of the room, its surface marked with goings on of years passed, of the many rituals he himself had conducted here; many under the radar of anyone. If anyone could say anything about Titus, it was that he got things done. 

Placing Clarke’s figure onto the alter. Titus revelled in the presence he felt here. The ritual of the commanders had once upon a time been performed here and as flame keeper, he could feel an echo of their spirits lingering in the last place their corporeal being had been. He then busied himself with shackling Clarke’s arms and legs. Cold steal chains extended up from the floor and where long enough to reach the top of the alter and be attached to the unsuspecting soul who lay there. Titus look at Clarke, his eyes scanning every inch of the face that had almost derailed his long set plan, the one who had swayed the commander off course and onto the wary lines of destruction. He brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face; a gentle gesture, in an otherwise, intemperate situation. He did admire Clarke for her tenacity and strength. She was one of the only Skaikru that he thought worthy of joining any alliance, if such a thing was necessary; showing true strength in situations that would have destroyed the other mere mortals in an instant. He turned to the table behind him and grabbed a length of fabric and twisted it into a makeshift gag. Even though no one knew where they were, he didn't need any unnecessary attention brought upon his work here. He had to attend to Heda and council her on what to do next. 

He turned and walked towards the door but stopped short of exiting, looking back on his captive, her form seeming almost peaceful. That would not last he thought.

—————————————————————————————————————

Axom did as he was instructed. He spoke to no one, uttered nothing of his mission. He searched every inch of Polis in search of Wanheda but came up with nothing; she had vanished and he knew that the commander would have his life for this failure. Marching back into the capitol spire empty handed, he gripped his spear was the elevator groaned its way towards his impending doom. The doors flushed open and he stepped out to the commander waiting for him. He didn't want to be the one to tell her that he had failed an truth be told that he probably didn't have to, it was written all over his features and for the fact that he was alone but nonetheless Lexa asked.

“Did you find Wanheda?” her voice not betraying any sign of the turmoil burning its way inside her.

Axom shifted his gaze to look past where Lexa was standing. He had been entrusted with this task and he had failed, he didn't deserve to look upon his commander. “No heda, I search everywhere. There was no sign of her.” 

Closing her eyes, Lexa let a heavy breath escape her lips, causing Axom to look at her just like he had in the elevator before all of this had happened. “I am sorry I failed you Heda.” At this, Lexa opened her eyes and squared her stance with the warrior, forcing him to look at her properly. It was an unusual feeling for Axom as normally no one would dare look the commander in the eye but he endured at her obvious behest. 

“Failure only occurs if the individual trying to succeed gives up.” He words echoed around the chamber like the spirit of the first commander choosing the next. “Have you given up on your mission?” 

Axom swallowed hard and straightened his stance further, “no Heda, I am still committed to my task. I will find Wanheda.” 

Lexa had few warriors in her guard that she actually respected and in this moment she admired Axom for being able to admit that he hadn't completed the task but also that he had not given up on the result she desired from him. Many of her warriors feared her but there were a select few that while still respecting her, had the edge of being able to treat her like a person as well, rather than just the leader of their people. Lexa was about to say something else to Axom when Titus rounded the door frame. 

“Heda, we must speak! You! Leave us,” his voice booming around the space, scattering any semblance of bravado Axom had. Lexa nodded at the young man and he bowed respectfully, turning to leave. 

Lexa’s jaw set like steel. She had not forgotten how Titus had treated herself and Clarke earlier and it was a situation she would keep an eye on for sure. It seemed like something had shifted in Titus recently and it wasn't for the better. His fight to keep her from her feelings was becoming all consuming and it made Lexa feel a little on edge. He had always been hard on her, keeping her on a shorter leash than the rest and for the most part Lexa was grateful for that but now, having been chosen by the spirit of the commander, and having had to do things no one of her age should, she was starting to realise that for all the talk of wanting peace and to unite the clans, Titus’s plans had always seemed to discount the one true thing that could have made everything possible, Love. It may seem jaded of her, but ever since she had met not only Clarke, but many of the Skaikru, something had changed, shifted within her. She wanted a world were all people could exist and live without fear or trepidation. There was always going to be things that she needed to protect her people from, both of nature and man made construction, she knew that but now she also knew there was a better way of doing that and still remaining a human being. 

“Heda, I have received word from both the Azgeda forces just outside the gates and your warriors at the blockade.” 

Lexa eyed him cautiously. “And what do they say Titus?”

A long moment passed between, Lexa challenging Titus to speak his mind, Titus not wanting to overplay his hand. 

“Skaikru… They are coming.”


End file.
